


Midwinter

by pokeasleepingsmaug



Series: Sons [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:13:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/pseuds/pokeasleepingsmaug
Summary: Short drabble from Aslaug's POV after Hvitserk's birth.





	Midwinter

As he aged she would tell him he was born hungry, but in truth he was born happy—sweet, slow-blinking blue eyes, tiny rosebud mouth open in a soft coo. His small hands splayed open, fingers closing softly around handfuls of her flesh as if reassuring himself this was all real. He'd been an easy birth, and even at just a few breaths old, he showed signs of the voyager he would become.

He wiggled his tiny self up toward her chest, grunting with the effort. He whined at the touch of her hand guiding him, and so she let him find his own way. Her little voyager, destined for sun-drenched seas far to the south. 

She would tell him he was born hungry, and so he was—hungry for discovery. He carried Ragnar's recklessness like a fire in his breast, Odin's hunger for knowledge constantly burning within him. He would be underestimated his entire life. People would mistake his good humor, his unbridled joy in life, for simpleness. They would never see the hunger within him until it consumed them. He was sunshine glinting off waves, but beneath that he was the dark unknown of the winter seas. 

Hvitserk would be layers of light and dark, of relentless hunger like a wolf in midwinter. He was a true child of the line of Odin, although people would see his mischievous grin and think only of Loki's tricks, and therein would lie his greatest gift. People would not fear him, and that would be their fatal mistake. For he would travel, and he would learn the secrets of the winds and seas and the hearts of men.

All that she knew in the instant he found his breast all on his own, a content little sigh leaving his mouth as he suckled her for the first time. She cradled the tiny head, dark hair damp against her palm as she looked down at him. Already his bright eyes, curious from the moment he opened them, were blinking slower. The hunger of Odin would drive him all his days, but for now, he was content. 

He would not be like his older brother, kind and good simply for the sake of it. The gods only knew where Ubbe had come from, her darling firstborn. He was too good for the family he was born into, but then, every family needs a peacekeeper. As f her thoughts had summoned him, a tiny “mama?” sounded from the doorway of the room, and a sheepish Ragnar scooped the waddling boy up into his arms. Aslaug motioned to him to bring Ubbe to her, and Ragnar settled him at her side. 

Both of them looked down at the new arrival. “Hvitserk,” Aslaug told them quietly. Ragnar nodded, silent and thoughtful, and stroked one gentle finger down his new son's back. Ubbe simply watched, a little fascinated and a little sullen—it was the middle of the night—from his spot at her side. His insistent little hand lifted her arm and she happily wrapped her firstborn in her embrace, snuggling him against her side as he popped his thumb into his mouth. 

Hvitserk dropped off her breast, a stream of the thick first milk dribbling from the side of his mouth, and nestled himself against her, seeking her warmth. Her midwinter son, bright as sun on new-fallen snow, dark as a night without a moon.


End file.
